Sowing the Seeds
by The Jack of Spades
Summary: Post X2, pre Last Mission. The Guado's rebirth.


Imagine my surprise to see that some of us are expecting!

Of course, they won't be due for a while yet -- we Guado are like the woods, a slow-growing kind. Gestation for us can last three, four, sometimes five years. But as experienced mothers have so often told me, the carrying stage goes by rather quickly, sometimes too quickly. Before long, the little ones will be out in the world, beginning a new generation to follow this old and war-torn one, and to one day succeed old saps like myself.

It is a sign, a sign that things are looking up. We have re-sown our seeds. The future of the Guado is steadily growing more and more secure. There will be another forest of us in the future, another populous, bustling city, rich with culture and tempered by understanding.

I had hardly bothered keeping up with others of my kind while in Macalania; too depressed was I to engage in idle chatter about the old days, so fondly missed. The Ronso wars had left us with so few. Where there had once been thousands, there are now a mere two hundred or so. Yet I am happy and relieved to know that some of my oldest and dearest friends are still with us! Sir Furle, who was secretary to Lord Seymour, for instance. And Lady Lesi, a merchant and entrepreneur who once oversaw all manner of imports and exports here in Guadosalam. Both have offered their services to me. I have to admit, I'm as touched as I am humbled!

Outside of Guadosalam, I hear our blitzball team is still playing away in Luca -- they had escaped to that city when the Ronso assault began, I am told -- and in other parts of Spira I hear there are a few stranded Guado, self-exiled, weary of the old ways and fashioning new lives for themselves hidden among the indigenous peoples outside of our woods. Perhaps they may yet be persuaded to take up residence with their own kind again.

It's been two months now, since our return. Our first order of business is tending to our land, of course: Seeing to the growing things, trying to mend the tempestuous Farplane (with no results of yet to report, I'm afraid). It may be a while before we are once again in touch with our roots, so to speak.

The sphere hunters, whom I was told have taken shelter here, are all but gone now. Most of them have left of their own accord, save for one -- well, one leader of an entire group, that is. Human, of course, and very willful; only after several tedious talks did she find it in her heart to see that the residence she had taken upon herself to occupy was the heritage of the Guado alone. After she departed, I and my fellows set about cleaning up the ancient and hallowed halls that once housed several generations of Guado leaders. Within, we found -- among other things -- a very large and strange-looking statue, obviously depicting a very important human lord. Perhaps negotiations with this person are as necessary as those with the Ronso.

Oh, the Ronso! I was nervous at first, when going to speak with them, but as it turned out, their Elder is a very compassionate fellow! Rather familiar-looking, too; have I seen him before?

Thus far, the Ronso and Guado have signed a truce, one copy of which now sits in my office -- which, can you believe, is in the great Guado mansion at the heart of our city! I'm almost ashamed to sit in it sometimes, though, I must confess; it brings back so many painful memories. . . .

Still, I try not to dwell on them so much. Little by little -- and with the help of our musical friends whom we found in Macalania -- my heart is persuaded to let the past lie. As any leader should do, I try to look to the future: to the complete restoration of the Farplane, to resuming relations with the other peoples of Spira, and most especially, to those little ones who have yet to enter this world. It is, perhaps, for them that my heart beats most strongly.

We are making Guadosalam -- nay, the Guado race entirely! -- new for them.

I always have my office quarters open for my people; they may stop by whenever they wish. Oftentimes they bring many insightful suggestions, for which I am truly grateful. A leader is no better than those he leads, and I it seems am the leader of a very intelligent, hopeful, optimistic bunch! We may be much fewer than we had been, but I foresee that changing in time.

Truthfully, however, I'm still not used to people calling me "Lord" Tromell!


End file.
